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Michael Walker
He didn't know what day it was, nor the time. Ignoring his urge to push past the secretary, "Fine."
__________________
Doliest's crimes against good taste
Spoiler
An Uwe Boll fan, and proud of it. LONG LIVE THE BOLL!
Also a Michael Bay fan.
Likes Jar Jar
Likes FATAL..... No, I'm sorry, but no. Everything else on this list? I like, but while I've done many horrible things in my life, I WILL NOT claim to like FATAL.
Joy. Bullock. No-one on the force liked him. Even Gordon and Montoya only tolerated him because of his... honesty. What a laugh. Katherine looked at Hagen. "Might want to change your face, prettyboy."
She muttered a curse as she used her cane to go over to the door and unlock it, glaring at Bullock as his face appears. "Shut up, you idiot. Stuff's been happening. I got this freak here. Y' know, one of the guys who does weird **** and goes out and fights crime at night. Yeah, it's all messed up kind of stuff. Gotham does that to you."
Getting back into the kitchen, Katherine motioned to the fridge, the chair, and then Hagen. "There's beer there. The chair's mine. This is Mr Freak-who-goes-out-at-night. Bullock, meet freak. Freak, meet Bullock. he's an idiot, but you'll have to deal with it. Now, what was it you came here for, apart from trying to catch me naked?"
His tone, which was formerly indignant, suddenly turns serious.
"Freaks or no freaks, you're officially unofficially one of us now. Even have the death threat to prove it."
He withdraws a plain white envelope, a visible bulge inside.
"It's from one of the mob hitmen; they call him the Smiler. Inside is one of his straight razors. And the razor's got enough anthrax on it to kill you, me, and Shifty here."
There's something in his tone at that last part. He's speaking from first-hand experience.
"Hell, Bullock." Katherine took the envelope gingerly, careful not to touch the razor inside it. To her lack of surprise, there were no fingerprints or other indentifying marks on it. "You sure know how to liven my day."
"Who the hell is this guy and what is it he can try and do to me? You sound like you know him."
"Mob hitman; one of the best. Works directly under Falcone; I think he's in charge of the recent shipment that we impounded...and then lost. Right now, he can't do nuthin public without the public going nuts. But I'd be careful if you're alone anywheres."
He turns to leave. And Walker remembers that Bullock's wife died in a car accident nearly three years ago.
"Don't think I'm doing you any favors, Walker. I know what you really think of me."
"You're right about that, Bullock - you're an obsinate idiot. All of Gordon's gang is. But since I'm one of you, who the hell am I to complain? Grab a beer on your way out or something." Katherine returned her attention to the letter, and then to Hagen. "Buddy, you got anything on this guy? Long shot, but I'm good for anything."
"Honored- yeah. If you're not pissing off someone in this town, you're not doing it right. But Bullock's wary of this guy. And I just bet Loeb timed my 'vacation' at this time on purpose." The cop sighs and gives a glance at the other policemant.
"I know what I want to do. What I want to do is not the sensible thing to do. I need a hiding place before I can get back properly." Katherine shakes her head, disgruntled. "This is gonna make things a lot more difficult. But Wanye Entiprises is still a fat, juicy target that hasn't put a hit on me yet. I'm up for them."
"Hmmm... I may be able to put you up somewhere, but do you really want to pursue W.E. now that there's a hit out on you? Not that I care for your well-being anymore than you seem to, but think of it this way: every attack the mob uses is also an opening. If we get this Smiler, perhaps we'll be able to get something on Falcone."
Spoiler
How much do accommodations cost in Gotham, anyway, especially if we make it anonymous? I feel like flaunting my Wealth.
Stunned for a moment, Tommy Elliot quickly an makes excuse to Alfred (something about the hospital and needing to make rounds) and leaves Wayne Manor.
Dent... Harvey Dent... he seemed honest enough, as a District Attorney. Another lone crusader for justice. Just like Gordon. Just like the woman at the docks. Just like Hush.
He needed to contact them somehow... to bring them on the same page.
But Dent was the pressing issue. They'd be out for him, his wife, his colleagues, everything. They'd try to dig up dirt, try to deliver a hit, try to send a message. Cobblepot wouldn't take something like this sitting down.
In an alleyway, a doctor wraps bandages around his face. Dent needed a guardian angel if he were to survive the campaign. Hush needed to find out who was already planning to take down Dent and how.
Funny, Tommy Elliot had never been much into politics. Around here, wrangling among crimelords was more important than elections. But then...
"Man is by nature a political animal"
Spoiler
Taking 20 on Gather Information to find out any organized crime action being organized against Harvey Dent. Total is 30.
In addition, using Well Informed and Skill Mastery to get some basic information on Harvey Dent. Total is 20.
"This Smiler guy will be out after me either way. Question is if I want him to come to me or me to go to him. What do you think?" A wide smile split Katherine's face as she considered this dilemma. "Yeah, let's go after the bastard. This won't stop you from cutting into W.E or anything, will it?"
"Sounds good to me. But we'll need something to lure him out. Of course, we've got the bait right here." Katherine pointss down at herself, and then at Hagen. "And with you, Mr. Freak. Want to muck up his mind by making him see double?"
"Maybe... I want to do some legwork on this guy first, see what we're getting ourselves into. Hold on." He whips out his cell phone and begins going through his electronic little black book.
Spoiler
We know the routine by now: using Contacts to take 20 on Gather Information (total of 30) on anything about the Smiler; his history, tactics, people he knows, places he frequents, etc.
Bullock's already left in a huff; Katherine's words come too late for the man to come back. In a way, she's glad. In another, she's furious for pushing away one of the few cops left that will talk to her.
Agent Clay
All you get is the title and a great deal of hearsay. The problem with his trademark Glasgow grin was that it was simple, brutal, and almost impossible to track. It was the bane of all searches; a technique so common that it was impossible to sort through the data for the nuggets of truth. Theories ranged from Falcone's illegitimate son to an ex-Marine sniper. And that wasn't counting the ones that believed the Smiler was just a codename for any number of free agents.
GCPD
"Great. Now get out; I'm missing my shows."
Hush
The underworld was...quiet. Focused, actually on the latest series of drugs that had just been intercepted by Detective Katherine Walker's daring raid on the docks. They figured that Dent was a long-shot, and if he wasn't...there were varied rumors about what to do. Ideas ranged from getting the man addicted to any number of substances sneaked into a handy beverage or refreshment, to outright murder. The criminal element in Gotham was too far ingrained to feel too threatened.
Dent, on the other hand, is spotless. While Elliot doesn't doubt that the man isn't perfect, he doesn't appear to have done anything horrendous. One or two non-violent drug offenses in college(the charges were dropped), some speeding tickets. Nothing outright criminal, though.
Michael
He considers teaching her manners before moving out of the building. Fine. He'd meet the commissioner on Monday. He still had two men before him, though; Cobblepot might just have to wait. He begins hitting the streets, trying to find information on any bar Falcone frequents.
Spoiler
Gather Information- (1d20-2)[18]
__________________
Doliest's crimes against good taste
Spoiler
An Uwe Boll fan, and proud of it. LONG LIVE THE BOLL!
Also a Michael Bay fan.
Likes Jar Jar
Likes FATAL..... No, I'm sorry, but no. Everything else on this list? I like, but while I've done many horrible things in my life, I WILL NOT claim to like FATAL.
He's glad Bullock is gone; he was an unlikeable man and so Hagen didn't like him. Regardless, he finishes his phone conversations. "Thanks again, Weeds," he says with a voice that isn't his own. "You keep safe." Hagen clicks off his cellphone, frowning. "Not much to report on this Smiler guy," he says. "Just urban legends. Guys got a knack for hiding in his own stories.
"Maybe we should plant some stories of our own. 'bout you. Trap?"
"Trap." Katherine smiles a little, and probes an idea around in her mouth. "This guy seems vicious. Make him think he's got a good oportunity- a piece of luck - and try and get him to take it. Got to make sense, though." She taps her foot. "I told Gordon I'd go and give him some evidence from the docks soon - today or tomorrow. It's something I'd do, damn the death threats. If I - or you - start getting around near his house, do you think this guy'll bite?"
Falcone eats in the same restaurant every night. He doesn't hide himself. To him, the city is bought and paid for; there isn't a person alive that can get anything to stick to him.
Now that Bullock was gone, Hagen relaxes his face, letting it shift back to its wet tan gloopiness. The longer he held those faces, the more tired he'd get. "Hope you don't mind," Hagen says, gesturing to his head.
"Its possible he might show up, but how to get the word out to him you'll be where you'll be?"
Hrm. The mob didn't think much of Dent's chances, and honestly, neither did Elliot. But, Dent wasn't stupid. Idealistic, optimistic, moralistic, but not stupid. He had to know how long his odds were.
So, then... why? Why this?
Elliot had to know. Dent had a plan. Time to ask.
Spoiler
Taking antoher 20 on Gather Information to find out where Hush can catch Dent alone and using Stealth to sneak up on him.
Katherine leans forward. "Falcone eats at this uppity
restaurant in town. All we need to do is get the information to him, you acting as some trusted underling or Chill or something. A chance to get me and Gordon - or his kid? Don't see how he can resist."
The cop leans back uncomfortably as Hagen's face shifts into deformity. "You gonna keep on doing that? Looking at a face change like that gives me the creeps."
"Good idea. Falcone will get the word. And yes," Hagen says, "I am going to keep doing that. Got a problem with it? I like to think Falcone and his goons and the rest of his kind are uglier than this." He pokes his face.
"I'm an actor. Gotta know your roles," Hagen says simply. He doesn't mention it IS harder and harder for him to remember what he looked like, and has to study his own photo every day to get it right.
"Now, as to my next role... who shall I approach Falcone as to drop the juicy tidbit that the meddling bitch from GCPD will be out and about and vulnerable...?"
"You could do Chill - he's a cocky bastard." Katherine shrugs, unaware of the irony. "Worse, a cocky bastard out on bail. He'd want to get back and me and return into Falcone's good books in one fell swoop."
"Other than that, I haven't got a bloody clue. I've been ****ing stuck in ****ing Pawn for the last three ****ing years, filling out ****ing form B127 in ****ing triplicate. I'm out of touch. Could be a cop. There's plenty who work with the crook, like the bastard sold us out." She snarls, and gives a small, hidden glance to the photographs on the table - but it's not small enough that Hagen can't notice it. She sighs. "Ah, sod it."
Last edited by DeafnotDumb : 09-25-2010 at 04:28 PM.
Michael Walker
He stood outside the restaurant. It was time to prove that this city didn't belong to the sinners. The monsters. He'd fix it, and God had given him the tool; six little metal tools that moved faster than a human. He stared at the restaurant, letting the details of the inside travel to him.
Spoiler
ESP(Sight)- (1d20+7)[16]
__________________
Doliest's crimes against good taste
Spoiler
An Uwe Boll fan, and proud of it. LONG LIVE THE BOLL!
Also a Michael Bay fan.
Likes Jar Jar
Likes FATAL..... No, I'm sorry, but no. Everything else on this list? I like, but while I've done many horrible things in my life, I WILL NOT claim to like FATAL.
Dent is in his office when Hush makes his move. It's late; his secretary and clerks had long since taken the night off. Dent is continuing to work out the details of the Chill case. Testimony, plea bargains, the works. He does what he can in this city. And then there is the election to consider.
From his vantage point inside the air vent, Elliot waits for the opportune moment. For Dent's head to start to droop, for his eyes to shut, however briefly. Then he sees it happen, begins to make his move...
And sees, too late, that it's a bluff. Dent had stashed a pistol under his desk. Elliot could identify exactly what kind, as well. The barrel of the M1911 is pointed directly at the center of his mask.
"The reason why my office has such large air vents is because they provide a simple and obvious area for any would-be prowlers to enter. Get out, and start talking. You work for Cobblepot; you know the or else."
The Old New World Restaurant
The patrons of the restaurant chat and flirt and dine, enjoying their evening. Muscle-bound bodyguards keep a lookout by the door and by the more important patrons.
Dent seemed prepared. Ready. He wasn't an idiot. Not an idiot at all. He had to have a plan. He had to. It was like a dream...
"Hope is a waking dream," Elliot mumbles as he shuffles out of the vent, his hands raised and his eyes meeting Dent's. He raises his voice.
"I'm not one of Cobblepot's men, Mister Dent. If I were that competent, you'd be dead. I'm the same as you. A fool. A fool who thinks this city could be great.
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